Seven Minutes in Hetalia Heaven: Refined
by Perfect-Tempest
Summary: Intelligent and a little insecure, this isn't really your type of game, but you agree to play anyway. /Self-insert, ReaderxVarious, Limes/
1. Selecting a Genre

**Seven Minutes in Heaven: Refined  
><strong>

Magnetizing with your mystifying charm, you draw people to you effortlessly. You aren't surprised when Alfred dances over and offers you a hat, declaring, "We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Are you game?" You hesitate. Seven Minutes in Heaven is a little unrefined for your tastes, not to mention, it makes you feel insecure for multiple reasons. "C'mon! It'll be so much fun! I promise!" Before you can decline, however, Alfred wields his puppy eyes on you and you surrender, deciding to make the best of it. Your hand disappears into the hat and returns to you. A type of music is scrawled on the inside. Your gaze doesn't reveal anything, so Alfred eagerly asks, "What'd you get?" Glancing up, you reply:

"(insert response from bottom)."

**Jazz**

**Rock**

**Folk**

**Pop**

**Classical**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This is going to be posted on my Quizilla account later, along with a quiz and other results. I'd like feedback on what people think of the stories; any and all criticism is welcome.


	2. Jazz

**Jazz**

Magnetizing with your mystifying charm, you drew people to you effortlessly. You weren't surprised when Alfred danced over and offered you a hat, declaring, "We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Are you game?" You hesitated. Seven Minutes in Heaven was a little unrefined for your tastes, not to mention, it made you feel insecure for multiple reasons. "C'mon! It'll be so much fun! I promise!"

Before you could decline, however, Alfred wielded his puppy eyes on you and you surrendered, deciding to make the best of it. Your hand disappeared into the hat and returned to you. A type of music was scrawled on the inside. Your gaze didn't reveal anything, so Alfred eagerly asked, "What'd you get?" Glancing up, you replied:

"Jazz."

Two things happened simultaneously. One, Alfred burst into a victorious smile. Two, Elizabeta ambushed you. Before you could check to make sure you received the correct card, you were pushed into a dark closet and the door was shut behind you. Disgruntled, you stared in the direction of the door, wondering what was going on.

"Just wait right there, dear!" Elizabeta chimed. "Your partner will be in momentarily!"

"I suppose I'll wait," you murmured quietly to yourself. _Not that I have much of a choice._

Inhaling the stifling scent of linen, you realized that the closet must have been used by Alfred for his bed sheets, which was confirmed when your hand stumbled across a forgotten blanket on the floor. Sighing, you leaned against the wall and extended your legs; for a closet, it was remarkably roomy. However, since this was Alfred's house, you suspected that everything was grand.

_Alfred… _Thoughts wandering to the American, a light blush grazed your cheeks. _…what a weirdo._

Straightening up and tucking your legs beneath you, sitting like a proper lady, you waited. Secretly, you hoped Alfred would join you because confusing him and convincing him not to do anything would be easiest. Laughing lightly albeit bitterly to yourself, you were so lost in your thoughts that when the door was flung open, you were startled into a squeak of surprise.

"Whoa, _oh damn it!_ Hey! You guys better have gotten it _right_ this time!"

Blinded by the sudden entrance and exit of light, you scooted into the wall. Where was the person? Whatever they said was too muffled for you to discern or recognize. Intense, you allowed them to speak first and kept quietly to yourself.

Louder than you expected, a response came. "Yo! _, is that you?"

Heart tripping, you exclaimed, "Alfred!" _N-no way!_

Exuberance invaded Alfred's voice. "Awesome dude! This is the best! Y'know, they totally just put me in the wrong closet—with _Arthur _of all people—and it was so not cool, man!" Shocked, you allowed the American to babble. Scratch what you said earlier, America might be too much for you to handle.

Though you could lie to others, you could not lie to yourself; you were deeply attracted to Alfred and the effect he had made you insecure.

"Hey, _?" Alfred addressed you suddenly and you stiffened. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course!" Laughing nervously, you edged into a corner.

"Where are you?" Alfred inched towards you.

Ascertaining that you would have enough room to bolt to the other side of the closet, you replied, "Just over here." Alfred chuckled, amused, and advanced. When he got too close for comfort, you rushed to the opposite side of the closet. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad; you could just avoid him the entire time.

"Aww," Alfred pouted, "how am I supposed to catch you if you keep moving?"

"Do chases bore you?" A smile graced your lips. "Isn't a man supposed to court the lady anyway?"

"So this is a challenge?" Alfred lit up, advancing faster, forcing you into retreat.

"S-somewhat!" Playing the game, you shuffled in the opposite direction, goading him.

"Awesome!" Alfred pursued you enthusiastically. "This is the most fun I've had all night!"

Cheeks flushed red, you realized the American was getting too close. With a quick push, you went to the other side of the closet, away from Alfred. Determined to win, the American sprung towards you. "Be careful!" You dove to the other side. Following, Alfred landed beside you—you barely escaped his grasp.

"Gotcha!" Alfred declared, narrowly missing as he reached for your hand.

"I don't think so!" You teased, escaping again and again, smiling.

However, it was only a matter of time before Alfred—

"Victory!" Alfred pounced on you suddenly.

Shocked, you squeaked as he pinned you to the ground, straddling you. Embarrassed, you tried to roll away, but Alfred was holding your wrists tightly and laughing shakily. The tiny closet was hotter now due to your game of cat and mouse. Hanging his head while he recovered, you flinched as his soft hair tickled your neck. "L-let me up!" your back arched in response to the sensation.

"But I caught you!" Alfred glanced at your eyes. "I've won twice now but I still haven't gotten my prize."

"Won twice?" Lifting a skeptical eyebrow, you frowned. "And I am not a prize!"

Hearing the injustice in your tone, Alfred explained, "No, not like that! Well, yes, but listen!" You were certainly listening. "You see, this is my second time winning because the first time was when you drew my word from the hat." Struggling not to interrupt and demand how that was considered a win, you waited, remaining calm. "I don't think you understand how much that excited me."

Silence arrived, but you shooed it away. "It's not the 'how' that has me," you replied, "more so the 'why'."

Alfred tilted his head. "I don't understand what you mean. 'How'? 'Why'? …what?"

Losing your cool, you spluttered, "N-never mind! It's not important."

Alfred refused to accept that. "No, tell me! Please?"

Damn those puppy eyes and that whimper. Damn your insecurity. Chewing on your lip, the pressure exerted by Alfred's stare grew heavier. Anxiety collecting in your throat, you quietly whispered, "I want to know why that excited you. Y-you know, why it excited you that I drew your name."

"Oh," Alfred blinked, "well, because I like you, of course!"

"Y-you like me?" How unsatisfactory! "Since when?"

"Always!" Alfred reddened. "You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't know! No one told me! Why?"

"I don't know why no one told you!"

"Not _that_—why do you like _me?_"

Stuck for words, the American forged forward. "I just, well, I don't know! I've always been really attracted to you. L-like we always get along and you listen to me, and, um, you just have this thing about you that's magnetizing or something—y'know, like something that makes me want you all the time!"

Was that earnest? "So I attract you like a cheeseburger? Because you want those all the time."

Alfred shook his head vehemently. "No! I want _you_ all the time, like, it's hard to explain!"

Did he love you? "Tell me what you want me to be then. Like, a support? Friend?"

Alfred groaned. "No, no, no! Well, yeah! I want you to support me, but—!"

_But?_ Nose crinkling, you took advantage of his pause. "But _what?_"

Sighing in defeat, Alfred lowered his mouth to your ear and murmured, "But I want you to be _my _girl." Eyes widening, you tried to say something, _anything_, but the moment Alfred pressed his lips against the side of your neck, you banished the thought of speaking. Hush descended upon both of you as Alfred sensuously moved his mouth against your skin. "I really, really like you." Vulnerable, the young man hesitated, warm exhales enflaming your senses. "Honestly, do you like me the same way?"

"Mmm—nnn…I," Skin tingling as Alfred breathed against your neck before kissing it deeply, you moaned softly, "I-I do, Alfred. I'm ex-extremely attracted to you." A sharp intake of breath and a smile was the only warning you received before Alfred kissed your skin with deepening passion. Desire bubbled inside you, prompting warm heat to spiral throughout your body. While Alfred kissed your neck, you lifted your hands and pressed them into his back, working them up his shoulders, massaging his muscular figure. Caressing the sides of your body, his fingers played up your ribcage then down your hips.

Every time he murmured something against your skin, the sensations left you dazzled.

"Beautiful," Alfred abruptly pulled back and you looked up at him, "you're beautiful."

"B-beautiful?" Echoing his words, you stroked the sides of his face.

"Yes," Alfred caught your hand and pressed it against his cheek as he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you as he whispered, "beautiful." Closing your eyes and gently pushing your mouth into his, you savored the kiss, whimpering when he pulled away. Breath shallow, you pleaded for his return with your eyes and Alfred could not deny your request. Sinking deeper into you, Alfred cupped your cheeks with both hands, gradually lifting away from you and pulling you into his lap.

Sliding your bottom into a comfortable position, you kissed his jaw, tracing your lips over to his earlobe.

Insecurity abruptly overcame you, however, and you stopped. Not knowing what to do, you sat up and stared at Alfred. Realizing that you stopped, Alfred asked, "What's the matter, baby?" Flushing at the nickname, you didn't reply. "Am I doing something wrong?" You shook your head. Puzzled, Alfred stared before an idea popped into his head. "Oh! Do you not know what to do?" Hesitantly, you nodded. Rubbing circles around your lower back, coaxing away your anxiety, Alfred leaned forward and huskily suggested, "Why don't you nibble on my ear?"

The shivers coursing through you could only be described as erotic.

Kissing back towards his ear, you allowed Alfred to run his hands over your body, prompting shudders. Enclosing you within his legs, the American drew you against his crotch and entangled his fingers in your hair as you moved your mouth towards his earlobe. Pushing your fingers up the back of his neck, raking through his hair, you heard Alfred intake sharply as your mouth closed around his earlobe. Moving the soft skin against your teeth, you nibbled affectionately and Alfred's grip tightened.

Groaning softly, Alfred's hands fell from your hair, dropping to your waist. Excitement flounced up your spine as his fingers slipped under your shirt. Kneading your back, pressing you towards him, Alfred continued his sounds of approval as you switched ears. Nibbling and licking the shell before claiming the lobe with your teeth, you smiled as Alfred moaned in appreciation.

Just as he started kissing the hollow of your neck, however, the door burst open.

Reddening beyond recognition and unceremoniously shoving yourself away from Alfred, you ogled the intruder murderously.

"Your seven minutes are up!" Elizabeta shot you a cocky grin. "Enjoy yourselves?"

"H-hey!" Alfred's brow puckered. "You're supposed to knock, not come barging in!"

"Jeez! Ex-exactly!" Scowling, you shielded the impeding light from your eyes.

Smiling innocently, Elizabeta twirled a lock of hair around her finger, "I'm sorry! I thought you would be finished by now." Winking, she added, "You know Alfred, you were supposed to find someone to keep track of the time since that was originally your job." Raising your eyebrows at the now nervously laughing man, you folded your arms.

"Right! I'd forgotten about that!" Alfred pulled his trademark grin.

"No worries," Elizabeta chimed, glancing at an approaching, sulking Englishman.

"Oh hey Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed, hurriedly avoiding the blame. "Why such a long face?"

"Hello, git," Arthur scowled before addressing you, "Miss _."

"Hi!" you replied, unaware of the arm snaking around your waist until you were yanked against Alfred.

"So, what do ya think of my new girlfriend?" Alfred boasted, pulling you against his hip.

Upper lip arching into a snide grimace, Arthur replied, "Girlfriend?" Casting Alfred a quick glare, you wondered why he had to announce it to Arthur of all people first! You were reasonably good friends with the Englishman (reasonably being that you only argued with him occasionally). "She must pity you."

Unfortunately for Arthur, Alfred was too excited to be distracted by his disdain. "Aw, c'mon! Don't be upset just 'cause I'm off the market!"

"W-what?" Arthur flushed. "D-don't be absurd! You fobbish twit!"

Sighing and smiling, leaning your head against Alfred's shoulder, you said, "Why don't we let Arthur be? Besides, you still haven't shown me around your house and you promised you would." Alfred instantly gave you an 'I did?' look, to which you replied with a slight nudge as a prompt. Being Alfred, however, he continued gazing at you in complete confusion.

"When did I say that?" Alfred scratched his head.

"When you invited me," you smoothly lied, "don't worry, you keep forgetting things anyway."

"Oh," Alfred beamed, "that's okay, 'cause I remember now!"

Of course he would remember; that made you smile. Escorted away, you gave a wave to Arthur, knowing that he probably _was_ upset _because_ Alfred was off the market. Elizabeta grinned knowingly at you to which you reproached her with an 'I'm getting you back for this later' look. Much to your dismay, however, Elizabeta didn't look worried in the least and started laughing as Alfred lifted you onto his shoulder.

"H-hey! Watch your hands!" you squeaked.

"Ahahaha!" Alfred proudly hoisted you up. "Now I can say that I heroically swept you off your feet!"

"You nutter!" you muttered, smiling. "I love you."

Unbeknownst to you, Alfred heard you but was smiling too much to reply.


	3. Folk

**Folk**

Magnetizing with your mystifying charm, you drew people to you effortlessly. You weren't surprised when Alfred danced over and offered you a hat, declaring, "We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Are you game?" You hesitated. Seven Minutes in Heaven was a little unrefined for your tastes, not to mention, it made you feel insecure for multiple reasons. "C'mon! It'll be so much fun! I promise!"

Before you could decline, however, Alfred wielded his puppy eyes on you and you surrendered, deciding to make the best of it. Your hand disappeared into the hat and returned to you. A type of music was scrawled on the inside. Your gaze didn't reveal anything, so Alfred eagerly asked, "What'd you get?" Glancing up, you replied:

"Folk."

Surprise slipped through Alfred's glasses and Elizabeta, who was sneaking up on you, stopped. Insecurity crept up your throat; the glance they two exchanged suggested lack of knowledge concerning the situation. Alfred glanced at Elizabeta, "'Folk'? Was there someone who wrote that down or was it, y'know, assigned?"

"Hmm…" the Hungarian girl mused, "…it might have been _him_."

Feigning understanding, Alfred exclaimed, "Oh yeah! Of course! _Him!_"

_Him who? _Suspicious, you folded your arms. _If I get set up with a stranger…_

"Well, no matter!" Elizabeta grinned cheerfully. "Now, into the closet, m'dear!"

Alarmed, you were abruptly pushed into the closet by surprisingly strong hands and the door was slammed shut. Wincing as you situated yourself, you rubbed your knees; Elizabeta was going to find Roderich quite the difficult person when his sheet music went missing, replaced by her makeup. Folding your arms, you leaned against the wall and waited, mind drifting.

Gradually, your knees slid up and against your chest as a consolation; you were insecure. Where matters of the heart were concerned, you took precautions. Leaning your head against your shoulder, contemplating quietly, you wondered who would join you.

"So this must be the infamous closet!"

Flinching, you heard an unfamiliar, booming voice, which proved louder than the unlatching of the closet door. The contrasting brightness from outside the closet pierced your eyes, however, and you had to look away, unable to see who was joining you. Before you could request freedom, the door was closed and you were no longer alone. Swallowing hard, you hoped your eyes would readjust.

"And who do I have the pleasure of spending seven minutes with tonight?"

Startled by the jovial purr that was suddenly beside your ear, you exclaimed, "W-wait a minute! Who are you?" Squinting in the dark, you had no hope of seeing who your partner was and that frustrated you. But there was something about the man's flamboyant laugh that bridled your discomfort.

"Won't that take the excitement out of it?"

"Not really," you replied quietly but pleasantly, "I just like to know who I'm with."

Chuckling, the man replied, "Ahh, I see! You know, I won't do anything with you if you're not comfortable, but it's so hard to control myself around such a beautiful young lady!" Charmed, you might have been suspicious if the voice sounded superficial or lusty, but there was an earnest happiness about it that calmed you. "What's the matter, pretty girl?" A long finger caught your chin and you caught a glint of hazel-brown eyes that resembled Feliciano's remarkably.

"N-nothing's the matter!" Surprised by his intimacy, you blushed. "Besides, how do you know I'm pretty?"

"Oh please!" He laughed enjoyably. "I recognize a gorgeous girl when I see one!"

"But it's so dark!" Your eyes struggled to adjust. "How can you see?"

Releasing your chin presumably to point to his head, the man replied, "One sees with more than just his eyes! At least, any man with more than just a dick to brag about does." Embarrassed by his blunt candor, you covered your mouth. Just who was this guy? "You know, I've always found that big hearts are better received in the long run! Wouldn't you agree, _il mio piccola fidanzata?_" (*my little sweetheart)

"Of course!" The man was interesting, no doubt about that. "Love is more important than looks."

"Exactly!" There was a grin in his voice. "That's why you do not need to see my pretty face tonight!"

"Eh?" Now you were frowning, but an amused smile tugged on your lips. "What do you mean by that?"

Before you realized what was happening, however, his lips collided with yours. Eyes widening, you couldn't believe what was happening and confusion lurched within you. Why weren't you stopping him? Strong as the joy in his laughter, perhaps there was no stopping him. One hand cupped your waist whilst the other apprehended your head. Why weren't you saying anything? Because, you would later admit, you were enjoying it too much.

The way his smiling lips pressed eagerly into yours, seeking your happiness, was incomparably sweet.

Seducing you with a single kiss, the man caressed your cheeks softly, running a finger down your jaw as he pulled away. Breathless and wordless, you stared at his enigmatic figure. "Did you like that, _mia cara?_" (*my dear) Astonished, you could only nod and hope that he saw the jerky bob of your head.

_Who is this man? _Touching your lips, you wondered, and it was almost as if he heard your thoughts.

Drawing closer to you so that your foreheads touched, the man asked, "Do you see the beauty of the mystery yet? You know, Feliciano tells me that you are quite the enigma yourself!" Intrigued that he knew Feliciano as well, you made a mental note to see the Italian upon being freed from the closet; perhaps he could tell you about this man. "He also tells me that you sometimes seem hard on yourself."

"E-eh?" Taken aback by the sudden seriousness and your friend's insight, you replied, "Sometimes?"

"Aww, why worry your beautiful head?" The brilliant smile returned and a kiss fell upon your cheek.

Where was all of this coming from? "I-I'm not hard on myself all the time!" Insistent, you were too distracted to notice his hands sensually roaming your hips. "I mean, I suppose," you started, not sure where you were going or why, "yeah, sometimes I'm hard on myself. I get insecure just like any other girl, you know?" The quiet shuffle of a nod comforted you. "Sometimes, I just want to get out and have fun without feeling so…insecure."

"I understand," the man nuzzled your cheek affectionately, "is there anything I can do?"

The words left your mouth before your thoughts reviewed them: "Kiss me."

Awkwardness didn't have time to touch your cheeks; he arrived first. Mouthing sweet nonsense as he kissed your lips, your jaw, and then down your neck, the man seduced your entirety in mere seconds. Tracing the hollow of your throat with his tongue, he gently laid you down, pressing his body on top of yours. Enamored, you moaned and lifted your hips into his. Grinding dominantly against you while lifting his lips to kiss your ajar mouth, he whispered, "You know, it's funny; at the beginning and at the end of love, the two lovers are embarrassed to find themselves alone."

Confused, you didn't get to reply in anything but kisses.

Later, you would remember that line.

One hand slipping between your thighs while the other entangled itself in your hair, he fingered circles around your leg whilst kissing you deeply, profoundly. Hands stroking his strong face, down his neck, and across his broad shoulders, you allowed the flash of a white flag as he lifted up your skirt, sliding his hand within. When he touched you, you moaned softly; it felt too good to stop.

The minute you realized where he was touching you, however, was the second he disappeared.

Suddenly, the door to the closet was flung open and again, you were blinded.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry dude!"

The first thing you saw was the closet ceiling. Gaze magnified to display your incredulity, Alfred's frantic voice stole your attention as his shadow enveloped you. "Alfred?" You were completely befuddled. Where was that guy? The minute you closed your eyes, hanging on the brink of pleasure, he disappeared.

"Aww, man! I totally forgot that we left you in here!" Alfred offered his hand.

"That's all right," you mused, hoping you weren't crazy, "I'm okay."

"Jeez, we just couldn't find 'Folk' anywhere!" Alfred pouted.

"Oh, you couldn't?" You were bemused beyond belief.

"No! We looked all over the party and everything!"

Then, what happened? Finger grazing your lips, your jaw, your neck, you followed where the man had touched you—he _had _touched you, you know he did. Recalling the mention of Feliciano, you interrupted Alfred's apology, "Wait, Alfred, where is Feliciano?" The question probably wasn't necessary you quickly discovered when you noticed Feliciano bouncing around Ludwig by the snack table.

"Huh? Oh, over there," the American indicated with his thumb, "why?"

"Because I need to ask him something," you furtively replied, leaving Alfred by the closet.

Approaching Feliciano quickly and quietly, you didn't need to ask for his attention because the moment he sensed you, the Italian whipped around to embrace you. More concerned with getting your questions answered, you allowed him to hug you and excitedly chortle, "Ve~! I haven't seen you in forever!" Ludwig cast him a scolding glare whilst offering you an apologetic shrug. "We need to hang out sometime, ve~!"

"Y-yes," you broke away from him, smile hard, "I know. Hey, could I ask you something?"

"Anything at all!" Feliciano kissed your cheek. "Ask away, _mia cara!_"

Practically jumping on those two words, you exclaimed, "Exactly! Right there! Feliciano, that's Italian, right?" Judging the innocence in his agreeing nod, you asked, "Do you have a family member, like a brother or cousin or something, who speaks Italian too?"

Feliciano nodded excitedly. "_Sì!_ My big brother Romano!"

You shook your head. "No, other than Romano—is there anyone else?"

Feliciano contemplated for a moment before relying, "I don't think so, well, maybe…no, can't be."

A flicker of hope was better than nothing. "Tell me! Who else?" Ludwig tilted his head at you and the Italian, clueless as to what was going on. But you were too focused on the subject at hand to pay much attention to the German, who was casually wandering towards Kiku. "Feliciano!" The desperation in your voice was rather unlike you, but you _needed _to know.

"W-well, just Grandpa!" Feliciano spluttered. "But," his voice quieted, "he died a long time ago."

Disappointment doused your flicker of hope. "Oh," you scrunched up your eyes. Well, count that out—there was no way the person was his grandfather. "Is that really all you can think of?" Earnestly trying, Feliciano thought for another moment before nodding. With a sigh, you thanked him and reassured him that the question was nothing of importance.

Leaning against the snack table as Feliciano gave you a goodbye hug and scurried off to regroup with Kiku and Ludwig, you suddenly found yourself graced with Elizabeta's company. With a small smile as she poured herself a drink, she said, "You seem muddled. Is there anything I can do?"

The familiar line made you bite your lip, but you managed a smile. "No, no; I'm good." Sipping her drink and facing the party with you, you both watched your friends mingle. Without warning, words tumbled from your lips, "You know, it's funny," your stare dropped to the floor and Elizabeta gave you her gaze, "at the beginning and at the end of love, the two lovers are embarrassed to find themselves alone."

Cheeks flushing, you questioned where that came from.

A knowing grin split your friend's lips, "Oh? Do you enjoy Jean De La Bruyere's quotes?"

Rubbing the back of your neck, you replied, "I suppose. That quote just popped into my mind, that's all."

Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, Elizabeta smiled. "Would you like to lay down?"

With a shake of your head, you declined. "No, but thank you."

Hand sliding off your shoulder, Elizabeta scurried off to see Roderich, who was impatiently flagging her down. When the Austrian embraced his Hungarian sweetheart, a pang of loneliness touched your heart. Sighing and turning to get a drink, you suddenly found a tall boy in jeans and a patriotically colored t-shirt grinning at you with a drink in hand.

"Here," Alfred smiled winningly at you, "I really am sorry about that whole mix-up thing."

"Thanks," you accepted the drink, "and don't worry about it—it's _quite_ all right."

"Gah, you're too forgiving," Alfred chuckled. "I don't know how you do it!"

"Magic?" you offered, causing him to choke on his Mountain Dew.

"Say what? Dude, don't go all British on me!" Alfred grimaced.

"Kidding!" you chimed. "Anyway, the closet wasn't bad."

"If you insist!" Alfred sighed. "Hey, you free later?"

Those big blue eyes came out—expert at getting what they wanted. Considering everything that had happened, you asked, "Could you give me a minute to decide?" Alfred nodded, flashing you a woeful look, but you merely smiled. How could you let yourself get seduced twice in one night? That just wouldn't be proper. Observing the party, returning to luring people to you with your quiet obscurity, you mulled over everything that had taken place in the closet.

Watching you from afar, however, was your most ardent admirer; unbeknownst to you, perhaps you would meet again.


	4. Rock

**Rock**

Magnetizing with your mystifying charm, you drew people to you effortlessly. You weren't surprised when Alfred danced over and offered you a hat, declaring, "We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Are you game?" You hesitated. Seven Minutes in Heaven was a little unrefined for your tastes, not to mention, it made you feel insecure for multiple reasons. "C'mon! It'll be so much fun! I promise!"

Before you could decline, however, Alfred wielded his puppy eyes on you and you surrendered, deciding to make the best of it. Your hand disappeared into the hat and returned to you. A type of music was scrawled on the inside. Your gaze didn't reveal anything, so Alfred eagerly asked, "What'd you get?" Glancing up, you replied:

"Rock."

Alfred looked suddenly uncomfortable. Forcing enthusiasm, regardless, he gave you the thumbs up, exclaiming, "Well, okay man! Let's do it!" Frowning, you considered objecting, but the American scooted you into the closet and closed the door. Settling down by the wall, top teeth hugging your lower lip, you questioned if this was a good idea.

"She is in here, _da?_"

Discomfort stirred within you. The pleasant lilt accompanying the Russian accent sent shivers coursing down your spine. Heavy footsteps approached the closet door and you heard Alfred say, "You better not do anything to her, got it?"

There was a light laugh. "But of course! I would never do anything, you know that."

Ominously straightening then twisting open, the doorknob whined and your hands balled into fists. Sending fear prickling across the back of your neck, the door opened. Large and intimidating, Ivan filled the doorway. You swallowed hard, trying not to draw attention to yourself as the Russian noted your presence with a grunt and slowly closed the door.

The closet was thick with silence. Eyes darting in the dark, you struggled to sense where the man was without being startled. Uneasy from the start, dread befell you now. Not a single breath could be heard, nor a movement seen; all you sensed was impending trepidation. Aware that Ivan was light on his feet, you assessed the situation to the best of your ability, trying to figure a way out.

An alarming whisper swept across your neck. "So this is where you are hiding?"

Choking on anxiety, your heart leapt up your throat and soundly lodged there. Turning to say something, you found a pair of dark and dangerous lips silencing your own. Strong hands fisted the hair behind your head and your trembling waist, forcing affection upon you. Horrified, you stiffened and curled, just as the doorknob had, and bent to the Russian's will.

Voice sinister and soft, Ivan hummed, "What is the matter, my pet?" Lifting your arms to push at his chest, you obstinately tried wriggling from his grasp. "Ahh, you should not be so disobedient, little one!"

Mouth smashing against yours, Ivan shoved you onto the floor and straddled you. One hand weighed upon your hip, keeping you in place, while the other continued clenching your hair. Writhing beneath him, you pushed defiantly at his chest only to have him release your hip to snatch your wrist and thrust it onto the floor. Arching in pain, you tried kicking him next, but he pinned down your leg with his own before lowering his entire body onto yours. Still, the grotesque kiss remained intact.

Heaving from the weight exerted upon it, your chest pressed into his and your insides coiled—the sensation was sickening. Unable to breath, your movements became frantic and Ivan gradually lifted his lips from yours. "So flushed and beautiful," Ivan mused, somehow able to see you as he looped a fallen strand of your hair around his long finger, "won't you become one with me?"

Determined to keep your dignity, you vehemently declined, "_Absolutely not!_"

Blinking those amethyst jewels, Ivan responded with a husky whisper, "Oh? You shall be difficult, then?" Releasing your strand of hair and trailing his nimble finger around your face, beneath your jaw, he pressed his mouth against your ear, "No matter; I shall tame you."

Anger suddenly flared within you—this was improper, disrespectful and belittling—this was _not _happening! Inner strength assisting you, you yanked yourself out from under the Russian and managed to stand, backing against the closet wall. Recovering and retaliating, Ivan laughed lightly and stood as well, lunging for your form. Dodging his assault, you dropped to your knees onto the floor and scooted for the door. Just as your fingertips grazed the doorknob, however, Ivan's hands snatched your waist and wrenched you against him.

"Let me go!" Too dignified to scream like a child or swear like an adult, you harshened your intimidating tone.

Slick and sensual, his tongue glided up the side of your neck. Stiffening and hissing, you were enraged as he kept your arms prisoner behind your back with one of his hands, while his other hand traveled up your stomach to apprehend your chin. Head held in place, legs now entwined with his so that they too were captured, you found yourself unable to move. "But," Ivan moved his mouth against your neck, "this is just _so _much fun, _da?_"

"You will regret this," your voice lost its tremble—when you were angry, you were angry.

"No," Ivan disagreed, delighted. "I'm enjoying myself far too much."

Letting go of your chin, his hand dragged down your throat as his lips moved against your neck, sucking your skin against his teeth. Groaning aloud, you cursed your traitorous body. Fingers dancing down your chest, Ivan slipped them beneath your shirt and you twisted rebelliously, but to no avail. Leaving marks on your skin as he yanked your shirt aside, Ivan allowed his mouth to roam across your shoulder. Shuddering, struggling to stifle your moans, you swore that you would have revenge.

Demonically chuckling, exhales setting the raw bites aflame, Ivan crooned, "You are just too much fun, no? Somehow, you are no longer afraid of me, yet you hate this all the same. Do you hate _me?_" With a curt nod and nothing more, you gasped as his hand shoved deeper into your shirt, grasping the tip of one of your breasts. Curving into his possessive touch, your back thrust forward and your head fell back. Revolting! Fury raged within you. "How mean," Ivan pouted, licking your cheek and twisting your tightening peak, "why are you girls always so mean? Becoming one with me won't be so bad."

Clenching your fists and gnashing your teeth, you willed that he would end the torment. This disgusted you on so many levels. Make no mistake, you would return. "Get your hand out of my shirt, Ivan." Hissing, you despised how he touched you, even as he pulled his hand out of your shirt and left your breast aching. Unsatisfied, Ivan then plunged his hand straight down past your stomach, slipping it underneath your waistband—far too low for your comfort. "_Ivan!_"

Like a godsend, a knock pounded against the door.

"Hey, what's going on in there? Your time is _up!_"

Heroically kicking the door open, Alfred appeared and Ivan discharged you instantly. "Good timing," Ivan stated simply as Alfred glared menacingly at him, "I just finished with her anyway." Flung forward, you fell into Alfred who embraced and steadied you, pulling you back as the Russian exited. Tilting his head and smiling sweetly, Ivan bid you farewell with a baleful, "We shall meet again _very_ soon."

"Count on it," you muttered, rubbing your arms.

Leer widening, the Russian flashed you a sinful smirk and returned to the party, immediately targeting the Baltic Trio. Averting your gaze, you pulled away from Alfred, who instantly caught your wrist, exclaiming, "Wait! What happened in there?" Turning to the American, managing a grin, you shook your head. Alfred eyed you sympathetically. "If you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

The concern was appreciated on your part. "Naturally, but I'm all right." You started strolling away the moment Alfred released you. Rejoining the party and casting furtive, furious smiles at Ivan, you plotted your revenge for the rest of the evening.


	5. Pop

**Pop**

Magnetizing with your mystifying charm, you drew people to you effortlessly. You weren't surprised when Alfred danced over and offered you a hat, declaring, "We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Are you game?" You hesitated. Seven Minutes in Heaven was a little unrefined for your tastes, not to mention, it made you feel insecure for multiple reasons. "C'mon! It'll be so much fun! I promise!"

Before you could decline, however, Alfred wielded his puppy eyes on you and you surrendered, deciding to make the best of it. Your hand disappeared into the hat and returned to you. A type of music was scrawled on the inside. Your gaze didn't reveal anything, so Alfred eagerly asked, "What'd you get?" Glancing up, you replied:

"Pop."

Grinning, Alfred nodded at Elizabeta, who sprung up and gave you a push, while he scurried off in the direction of the crowd. Tripping into the closet, scowling when they slammed the door behind you, you huffed and brushed yourself off. That was certainly no way to treat a lady. Then again, this wasn't the most dignified, ladylike game. Seven Minutes in Heaven was something you'd never played before and you weren't sure if you'd like it. Propping yourself against the wall, soothing your nerves, you waited.

Dragging your knees against your chest, resting your elbows atop them, you straightened up, formulating which excuses to use if someone entered the closet and tried to make you do things you didn't want to. Disrupting your contemplation, however, the closet door banged open.

"Only seven minutes, dude!" Alfred chirped. "We'll give you a warning!"

"_Sí!"_ The pleasant, familiar Spanish quickened your heartbeat. _"¡Gracias!_"

Tilting your head as the door closed again, you expected that Antonio had joined you and this made you blush; the Spaniard's charm was exceedingly enticing. Sitting quietly, you waited for him to speak first, shyly fingering a lock of your hair.

"Now, _¿quién es este?_" Antonio leaned towards you, startling you into a flinch. (_Who is this?)_

"Ah, um, _!" Replying with a blush tingeing your cheeks, you leaned away.

"¿_En serio?"_ Eyebrows rising with his tone, Antonio reached for you. (_Really?)_

Soft, warm hand grazing your cheek, Antonio knelt towards you. "Y-yes," you replied, "it's me." You heard him muse a soft _Ah!_ before sweeping his fingertips along the side of your face, twirling a loose strand of hair around his finger. Shivering at the gentle contact, you gasped when he gave your hair a little tug and pulled your lips towards his.

"I am a lucky man," Antonio chuckled, warm breath sweeping across your face, "_belleza_." (_Beautiful.)_

Heart thumping erratically, you gasped when his hand found yours and lifted it between your mouths. Planting his smooth lips into your delicate knuckle, he whispered something in Spanish that you didn't catch. Slanting into the wall, your head retreated as Antonio grew nearer to your face, releasing your hair to play his fingers down your jaw. Tilting you perfectly, lips hovering above your face as he lowered your hand beside your waist, Antonio murmured the most beautifully spoken words:

"_Te amo, mi querida_." (_I love you, my dear_.)

Before you could respond, warm, wet lips pressed eagerly against yours and you were seduced by the sweetest kiss. Tasting of sweet fruit, Antonio moved his lips slowly but passionately and you met him with beguiling affections. Draping your arms around his shoulders, running your fingertips lightly along the back of his neck, Antonio shuddered against you, breathing hotly into your mouth. When he pulled away, one hand took your waist whilst the other supported your back as he pulled you into his lap and into a deeper kiss.

Kneading your back with skilled hands, Antonio's lips left yours only to trace more kisses down your jaw and down your throat. In utter ecstasy, you inclined your neck, allowing him to sensually move his mouth over your tantalized skin. Nothing felt better than him, nothing felt more right; as your eyelids fluttered and you moaned into the dark, you wished he would never stop.

"Mmm," Antonio hummed by your ear, whispering huskily, "I've been waiting for this opportunity."

"Waiting?" Echoing his words, you stroked his kind, beautiful face. "For how long?"

Laughing pleasantly and nuzzling your neck, he replied, "Probably as long as I can remember. There was always something about your intellectual nature that attracted me. I have never been so enticed by a woman before." You felt him smile against your skin as he nibbled at your earlobe. Head falling back only to be caught by his hand which had moved up from your back, you felt the sensations dance down your spine. "I want you to be mine, _mi querida_."

"Yours?" The words were delectable upon your lips.

"_Sí!_" Antonio fumed passion into you, voice an aroused rumble. "Will you be mine?"

Whining softly when he started kissing back down your jaw, you noticed he was staring into your eyes as you locked gazes. Bliss beautified your voice, "As long as you're mine." Excitement sprung from the Spaniard as he crooned and pressed his lips against yours, sealing the deal. Before you could think, he lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, and he pinned you against the wall, kissing you lovingly. Hands sliding slyly under your shirt, Antonio explored your soft body, loving every minute of it.

Entangling in his hair, your nimble fingers admired his waves. Returning each of his kisses with rising passion, you would lift yourself up as his lips pressed in and push your mouth down when he pulled back; undulating in perfect synchronization, you connected with Antonio deeply.

Without warning, however, there was a sudden knock on the door. "Your time is up, dudes!"

Scrambling away as the doorknob twisted, you begrudgingly separated from Antonio. Smoothing your outfit down as light flooded the tiny closet, you were surprised when a warm hand squeezed your own and claimed your fingers. Blushing and blinking, you noticed Antonio smiling brightly as he led you out of the closet and back into the party. Alfred was immediately in your face as Arthur tried pulling him away.

"Whoa! No way!" Alfred stared at you, making you feel awkward. "Did you two totally hook up or something?"

"That's what it looks like, you bloody imbecile!" Arthur snapped, whacking him upside the head.

Setting his arm around your waist, drawing you closer to him, Antonio cheerfully replied, "Of course we did! After all, how could I resist this pretty face? You should see what a great kisser she is!" Blushing furiously, you dug your heel into his shins and he reeled forward. "Ahahaha! Ahh, well, I'm just giving credit where it's due!" Smiling mischievously, he utilized his other hand to seize your chin and guide you into an unexpected kiss.

Alfred stared, eyes wide.

Arthur reddened, embarrassed.

The entire party went into a humiliating uproar. Gilbert whistled and Elizabeta cheered. Feliciano jumped and hooted excitedly, while Lovino yelled at the Tomato Bastard to behave himself. Francis was making some sort of perverted comment, encouraging Antonio to take off your clothes. Countless hollers of congratulations rang throughout the room and you reddened beyond recognition.

When Antonio pulled back, enthused, you pouted. "You're such a jerk! I don't like PDA." Giving you a questioning gaze, the Spaniard didn't have time to ask before you pulled him into another kiss. "But as long as it's you," you smiled cynically, "I suppose I could make an exception."


	6. Classical

**Classical**

Magnetizing with your mystifying charm, you drew people to you effortlessly. You weren't surprised when Alfred danced over and offered you a hat, declaring, "We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Are you game?" You hesitated. Seven Minutes in Heaven was a little unrefined for your tastes, not to mention, it made you feel insecure for multiple reasons. "C'mon! It'll be so much fun! I promise!"

Before you could decline, however, Alfred wielded his puppy eyes on you and you surrendered, deciding to make the best of it. Your hand disappeared into the hat and returned to you. A type of music was scrawled on the inside. Your gaze didn't reveal anything, so Alfred eagerly asked, "What'd you get?" Glancing up, you replied:

"Classical."

"Classical?"

Glancing down to ascertain your response, you repeated, "Classical." Breaking into a beam, Alfred motioned to Elizabeta who bounded over. Grinning mischievously, the duo tag-teamed you and the closet; Alfred opened the door while Elizabeta pushed you in. Unceremoniously shoved onto your knees, you sat up with a huff as the darkness overtook you.

_Classical… _you mused, eyes roving the small space. _…I wonder who that is._

Drumming your fingers against the floor, you theorized. Assuming that the person who wrote it chose that genre, you would guess that Roderich wrote it. The thought made you shudder. Sure, the Austrian was polite to you, but being locked in a closet with him for seven minutes would be awkward. Brightening, you could see Ludwig writing something like that, but you were friends with him—_strictly_ friends. Though, this was all concluded by assuming that the person who wrote it wanted to write it.

Inconclusive, you sighed and waited.

"This is the right closet, ve~?"

Heart jumping as you flinched, your eyes focused on the door. That was Feliciano's voice. _Feliciano… _Cheeks alight with a gentle blush, you controlled your excitement as the doorknob twisted. _…I—I can't believe it! This is amazing! _Truth be told, you adored the little Italian. Yes, he wasn't nearly as intelligent as you, but he was fun and made you happy when you were around him. A sliver of light abruptly burst into blinding luminosity as the door flew open. You heard Feliciano stumble into the closet and knew he was there when he fell right on top of you.

"Ahh!" Feliciano glommed you when the door closed. "It's so dark and scary! Hold me!"

Wide-eyed, you hugged the hyperventilating Italian. Blushing uncontrollably, you tried soothing Feliciano as well as your heartbeat, "C-calm down Feli! It's okay!" Practically in your lap and squirming, he continued whining. "Don't worry, there's absolutely nothing in here except me—," you paused thoughtfully, "—and maybe a few spiders."

"No!" Feliciano clung tighter to you. "Don't let them eat me!"

"Feliciano!" Crowded, you pushed gently at him. "You're s-squishing me!"

"Oh no!" Leaping off you, but sticking close by your side, he apologized. "I'm so sorry!"

Managing a smile, you replied, "Don't worry, it's fine." Your blush spread further, burning warmer when Feliciano hugged your arm to his chest and propped his head on your shoulder, breathing into your ear. What started as ragged exhales turned to slow, steady breaths. Each exhale made your heart flutter as the Italian calmed and, much to your dismay, he seemed to have fallen asleep—

—until he suddenly exclaimed, "I'm so glad I have such a pretty girl to protect me!"

The happy voice slipped over your neck as he crooned affectionately in your ear and you reddened; insecurity followed the compliment, but you were flattered anyway. "Thanks Feli," you smiled sweetly and turned to him, "hearing that means a lot to me."

Confused, Feliciano straightened up and tilted his head, "You mean people don't tell you how happy they are to see your beautiful face every day?" Laughing lightly, you shook your head. The Italian was so adorable with his head-tilt and you could tell he was doing it from the tone he employed. Feliciano was shocked. "Really? Why don't they tell you how gorgeous you are?"

"I'm not that pretty," though you smiled, your insecurity frowned, "just pretty enough."

"Silly girl!" Feliciano declared. "You are _bellissima!_" (_Beautiful!_)

With that, the playful Italian leaned in for a kiss and pressed his lips against yours. One kiss, however, was just not enough, and soon you met a barrage of affection. Startled, you leaned back and fell onto your elbow with Feliciano following, straddling you accidentally. Catching and cupping your cheek, his mouth met yours and you accepted it slowly. Opposite hand dropping to your hip, Feliciano played his fingers up your stomach, tickling you lightly, and you squirmed beneath him.

Pulling back, Feliciano grinned. "I have kissed the most beautiful girl here! I cannot wait to tell Ludwig!"

Unease stirred in your stomach. "Ah, don't tell him that! Let's just keep it a secret!"

Feliciano leaned towards you. "Only if you kiss me, pretty lady!"

Scoffing, you declined. "I will not kiss you just to keep a secret!" Feliciano pouted. "That would be most improper. Besides," you teased him with a coy grin, "what if I don't let you kiss me ever again? You didn't even ask permission the first time." Sliding out from beneath him and slowly standing, you were surprised when Feliciano jumped to his feet.

Reaching out and taking your hand in his, holding it tightly to his chest, the Italian exclaimed, "No more kisses ever again? That's _terrible! _I mean, sure there are tons of pretty girls out there, but none of them are the same as you and you're the only one I want!" Lips pursing in the most curious manner, you found Feliciano working himself up more and more with each passing second. "If you were the only one I had to kiss I would be happy forever! Please be my girlfriend!"

"W-wha?" Not expecting that kind of response, you gasped as the Italian hug-tackled you.

"Please, please!" Feliciano wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled your cheek.

"I—I, um," you couldn't respond quickly enough, "w-well, yes! Yes!"

"Does this mean I can kiss you again?" he squeezed you.

"Depends, are you asking?" you smiled suddenly.

"Of course I am!" Feliciano kissed your neck.

Turning around, you lifted your chin as the Italian pressed his warm lips into yours, holding your face lovingly. Outside the closet, Alfred was counting down the last few seconds, but you were too absorbed into Feliciano to notice until the door was rebounding off the wall.

"Man, I said time is up, dudes!" Alfred laughed as you reddened, pushing Feliciano back.

Scowling sheepishly, you replied, "Yes, I heard you this time." Your expression lightened, however, as your Italian lover reached over and entwined your fingers in his, giving you a cheerful smile. Beaming back, you shook your head; he was just too cute. As he led you through the crowd of interested eyes, you noticed he was going straight to Ludwig.

You deadpanned.

"Hey Ludwig! Guess what? I kissed the most beautiful girl here!"


End file.
